


Goddess of Death and the Wizard of Oz

by Ragingstillness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: #FluffNotFear, <3, Before everyone gets mad, F/M, I do know my mythology but I'm changing some parts, Role Reversal AU, Why?, because it's fanfic and I can do whatever I want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6846076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragingstillness/pseuds/Ragingstillness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zades role reversal AU. Zelena is the Goddess of the Underworld and Hades is an actually useful Wizard of Oz. Zelena and Persephone are the same person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

    He felt the push rather than saw it, his eyes much too fixed on the swirling portal of orange magic that was tickling the edges of his lime green feet. He was just about to decide to seal off the area until he could run some magic tests on it when the pressure of four traitorous hands between his shoulder blades sent him twisting and falling into the very phenomenon he’d been staring at.  
    The fall was not pleasant, as the poor man’s body was whipped back and forth in the vortex, slamming into unseen objects until a blinding light filled his vision and he hit a stone floor hard, cracking his chin on the inlaid tile markings.  
    In between cursing and spitting blood his vision slowly returned and he pushed up on his hands, glancing around at the circular platform he seemed to be standing on and the five colored rivers that flowed from somewhere under it.  
    The outer edge of the platform was decorated with the strangest of items from a violin, to a pool table with the balls already broken, and a small chaise lounge. The cavern the platform resided in was huge but the platform itself seemed to be one small room with no walls.  
    “That was quite an entrance,” came a silky voice from behind him.  
    He spun around, and there on a red vinyl throne sat a woman, delicately cleaning her black nails and slightly smirking at him. Her long legs were crossed through the slit of a sinful black halter dress whose body appeared to be made of interconnected metal feathers. Black stilettos gleamed on her bare feet, also with pitch black nails, their ends carved to a spike that looked utterly impossible to walk on.  
    Her ruinously red lips curved even more as she saw his eyes sweep her body and she freely tossed her glorious mane of fiery curls down her back, making sure he followed the pale column of her neck and saw the flecks of gold in her pale blue eyes. He tried not to stare but it was really difficult to help when she was so very beautiful.  
    He cleared his throat awkwardly and twisted his hands behind his back.  
    “Nice to meet you…,” He glanced up at the enormous spindly obsidian crown that sat atop her head, “…your highness.”  
    The woman laughed and clapped her hands lightly, the nail cleaning instrument falling from her delicate fingers then completely disappearing in a puff of blue smoke. He stared at the spot where it had just been, then looked back up at the woman, with new respect for her prowess in magic.  
    “Your highness hmm? Well I suppose it will do.”  
    She pouted childishly at him and he rushed to correct any mistake he may have made.  
    “I’m so sorry, what would you like me to call you?”  
    The woman stood in one graceful motion and walked towards him only to smooth a hand over the top of his shoulder. There was a deep and primal fear growing slowly in him the closer she got but he pushed it down, somehow strangely unwilling to be afraid of her.  
She drew right up next to his head and just before her lips grazed his ear he saw the gold flecks in her eyes shimmer.  
    “You can call me Persephone. Goddess of Death.”  
    Now the fear took over. He absolutely couldn’t resist shivering to which she gave a cackling laugh but did pride himself immensely on not running away.  
    With a strength he didn’t know he had, he turned his head and met her eyes, swallowed once, then spoke.  
    “It is nice to meet you Persephone.”  
    He stepped away from her and excused the movement by dropping into a deep bow.  
    “Hades, Wizard of Oz.”  
    Despite himself he reached out and lightly gripped her hand before kissing the back of it gallantly. Her skin was freezing and veins he could see lightly crawling over the back of her hand were a strange green color. He couldn’t feel any pulse from her palm either.  
    The Goddess laughed at his action, smiling then inclining her head towards him mockingly.  
    “Is the dead man flirting with me?”  
    “Ah, but I’m not dead,” he replied playfully.  
    All amusement left her expression then and she moved right up in his face again, gripping his chin in one cold hand so their faces were barely inches apart. It was difficult to hold eye contact with the sporadic twinkling of the gold flecks in her eyes but her stare was locked steadily on his face.  
    He felt a creeping sensation and several of her long fingers curled down from the rest to touch right under his chin where his pulse was. She pressed down lightly and he stiffened but the consistent beat must have convinced her for she released him abruptly and began to pace around him, those impossible heels stabbing sparks out of the tile as she went.  
    “A living man in the Underworld,” she mused, tapping her jet nails against her face. “There must be some sort of solution to this.”  
    He turned to follow her but a careless wave of her hand froze his feet to the ground. He struggled and she continued to pace, ignoring his frantic movements and attempted incantations. Her hand left her face and flopped out into space as if supporting an unseen plate. She stopped walking.  
    “There is always the easy option.”  
    “What’s the easy option?”  
    She started walking again and disappeared behind his back.  
    “I could just kill you.”  
    “What!” He yelped, twisting towards her as she came around again. “Why would you do that?!”  
    She paid his panic no attention.  
    “You’re a living man in the realm of death. Your being here upsets the balance. As Goddess of Death it is my responsibility to take care of liabilities like you.”  
    “Liabilities!” He choked out. “Why can’t I just go back home? I’ll gone as though you never saw me.”  
    He slightly noticed his voice getting higher as he spoke but there was nothing much he could do to stop it. She tapped a manicured finger against her lips.  
    “It isn’t that easy dear. There are few ways to get out of the Underworld, even fewer that won’t get me killed, and pretty much only one that has the slightest chance of success but down here frankly, you’re unlikely to find it.”  
    “And what would that one be?”  
    Persephone stopped pacing and faced him directly, her arms wrapped around her waist pensively.  
    “Why True Love dear. It can break any curse, it can raise the dead, it can save you from the Underworld.”  
    He started a little, clenching his fists in his green robes.  
    “But no one can raise the dead, it’s one of the three basic rules of magic--”  
    “Yes, yes, dear but you’re in the Underworld, playing with gods now. No rules apply as there is no game for them to serve,” Persephone cut him off sharply.  
     He shook his head in disbelief. He was really out of his element. This had been such the weirdest day.  
    “So True Love. You say that’s all I need to leave?”  
    Persephone clapped her hands again and settled into her throne.  
    “Well when you put it that way it sounds so easy, now doesn’t it? Have you ever been in love Hades?”  
    He blinked at her use of his name, enjoying all too much how it rolled off her tongue.  
    “I don’t believe so, Persephone. I mean, I have loved my family since the moment I was born and occasionally felt something for several women but love, no I don’t believe I ever have had feelings that strong yet.”  
    She tilted her head at him, acknowledging his use of her preferred name.  
    “Yet? Strange wording indeed Mr. Wizard.”  
    He scratched the back of his head and tried to change his posture but the binding still on his legs made it a bit awkward.  
    “I’m sure I’ll find love someday. I mean, everybody does.”  
    Persephone scowled.  
    “Everybody does not find love Hades. I can guarantee it.”  
    Her voice held a painful finality that shut him up immediately. A wicked light burned in her eyes and while she leaned back from him in the chair her eyes seemed to move closer to him, so close as to be looking into his very soul. She giggled.  
    “You’ve been lying to me.”  
    “Lying? No I haven’t.”  
    “Yes you have. You don’t believe you’ll find love. In fact recently you’ve been agonizing about how much your job takes over your time and how impossible it is to have the time for relationships.”  
    He swallowed hard. She had nailed him completely. He sighed.  
    “I suppose so. I didn’t intend to lie but believing in love is much preferable to the idea of dying in order to fit in.”  
    “I suppose so as well,” Persephone responded.  
    She waved her hand and a pair of wineglasses appeared on the end table next to her. The wave also released his legs and he shook them out gratefully as she poured a red wine in each glass then teleported one into his hand.  
    “Go on,” she prompted. “Have a drink.”  
    He glanced warily at her and she snorted.  
    “I haven’t poisoned them. You won’t be stuck in the Underworld for six months of the year if you eat six pomegranate seeds or other such nonsense.”  
    He laughed awkwardly and lifted the glass to his lips. The wine went down flaming, but somehow he didn’t feel very drunk, it tasted more of magic than of alcohol. Feeling rather perturbed, he glanced up at Persephone to see the last of the of her glass slipping down her throat.  
    She twirled the glass in her fingers then crushed the stem in her hand. It immediately shattered but the pieces disappeared before they hit the floor and she was left with several sharp cuts on her hand, dripping gold ichor.  
    Hades barely had time to marvel at this when a suddenly pain stung into his own right hand. He curled inward on it, seeing no injury but feeling as though his palm had just been serrated. Persephone glanced lazily at him then waved magic over her own hand to fix it. The pain in his disappeared and he stared openly at her. Before he could gasp out a question she stopped him.  
    “Looks like it worked.”  
    He gasped and looked at the glass in his hand then back up at her.  
    “What did you do?!”  
    “A connection potion. If you’re going to be looking for love in the Underworld as a living man, it’d do for me to keep an eye on you. This way you’ll feel what I feel and I’ll feel what you do. Of course the transmission isn’t perfect due to several anatomical differences but it should do just nicely.”  
    His mind raced through the facts: she and he were now somehow magically connected, connection potions were supposed to be impossible to make, and somehow a routine day serving the citizens of Oz had turned into a mission to find love in the Underworld. He glared at her.  
    “You told me it wasn’t poisoned.”  
    “Oh. Dear, I’m the Goddess of Death, did you really expect me to be honest?”  
    “No, but I expected you to be fair.”  
    She started a little at this and leaned forward, connecting her elbow to her knee and her chin to her palm.  
    “So you’ve done your research on gods then have you?”  
    Hades straightened and clasped his hands behind his back.  
    “Indeed. In ancient times the ruler of the Underworld was not supposed to be evil, merely apathetic. Modern interpretations of what most consider myth has turned the personage so.”  
    Persephone nodded approvingly.  
    “That’s how things used to be. I guess time has just made me bitter.”  
    Hades shook his head, she was incorrigible.  
    He raised his hands awkwardly to the sides then slapped them on his thighs.  
    “What do I do now?”  
    “You go find that True Love of yours. I’d wish you luck but it’s not a lucky venture.”  
    Hades scoffed then gathered his robes around him once more to bow to her.  
    “Thank you for not killing me.”  
    There was a silence, then Persephone began to laugh raucously. Her whole body shook with the movement and her razor-sharp nails clutched at convulsing sides. Hades began to smile then he noticed that no matter how wide her smile stretched, he may have been wrong, but were the torches glinting off tears in her eyes?  
    He made to move forward when abruptly she stopped laughing, clear tear tracks blazing down her cheeks. She didn’t seem to see them and just waved him off. Taken aback by how sad she looked the minute he began to turn away, Hades stopped walking.  
    The death goddess scared him, no matter how he looked at it, in a primal way that made his body want to turn and run but somewhere deep inside him he found it impossible to feel anything but care for her. His heart and his head fought for a moment then he sighed and gave in to an impulse baser than fight or flight.  
    Spinning on his heel, he made his way right up to Persephone’s throne and knelt at her feet. Her eyes widened and he leaned forward, raising a hand to wipe the tears from under each of her eyes. He stood again before she could reprimand him and began to leave.  
    She didn’t stop him but just as he was about to enter a tunnel he hoped led to the outside he heard her silky voice call out.  
    “Good luck.” 


	2. Chapter Two

    The tunnel let out in some sort of forest. Hades could see nothing but more trees in every direction and he was about to slap his hands on his legs when suddenly through his annoyance he felt a spark of amusement, like a little voice inside of him was laughing. When he realized what it was his annoyance only grew and he tried to internalize it, wishing somehow it would reach the tricky goddess who was making fun of his emotions from all the way underground. 

    Yet maybe he could take advantage of the connection. Hades spun a circle slowly on his heels, waiting until the Goddess sent a little pulse of affirmation through the link. He walked straight in that direction, his green shoes crunching over brush and wood that were quite similar to those he’d seen in Oz. It was a bit surprising. 

   He had expected more of the Underworld to look like the chamber he had fallen into. All fire and brimstone, not quaint arrangements of trees that resembled his home. Or Oz at least. 

   Oz wasn’t truly his home, for he had been born in a different land. He had few memories from that time except, oddly enough, the most important one of all. 

    His parents had sent him off into a forest much like this one to gather wood. A storm swept up out of nowhere, a green cyclone, that whisked him away to Oz, where he had been adopted by a young couple that found him on the side of the road, crying into his dirty off-white shirt. 

    His magic wasted no time in presenting itself to his new parents. Given time it only grew and he was sent to a magic school in the Emerald city. Hades was never very comfortable there, making a couple close friends, but mostly keeping to himself. 

    One of the witch prodigies had tried to court him, and he had entertained her interest until the discovery that he really wasn’t interested in her. She was too shallow, too patronizing for him to deal with. He broke up with her as kindly as he could but she threw a fit, the way children of that age always made mountains out of molehills. He became a pariah as a result.

    The time had been difficult for him, especially when the people he thought were his friends abandoned him to escape the same torment. A darkness came over his heart in those days, keeping his head up when no one was there to support him. He gained a bit of a superiority complex and took to his schoolwork more and more, until finally his potential exploded, quite literally, and all his abusers came to respect him as the best magic user in the school. 

    His former girlfriend was one of the few who never got over being pushed out of the number one spot, but he didn’t care. He was on top, a wizard so powerful he nearly outstripped several teachers. 

    He never took revenge on the people who hurt him, but he didn’t forget. He greeted his appointment as apprentice to the previous Wizard of Oz with a smile, but it wasn’t from happiness, more from expectation. 

    Hades lived for a couple of years under the Wizard, shadowing the man in his work. This often involved working with his ex, who had been elected to the Council of Four Witches as the witch of the South, but he was always civil to her. 

    The darkness that had buoyed him throughout his tough school days was slowly being worn down by the Wizard, a kindly old man who saw how the teen in front of him was suffering. He broke down one night, and cried out his troubles to the Wizard, who just patted him on the back, gave him a brilliant smile, and said several immortal words. 

    “Do good, child.” 

    After that Hades was a changed man. He let go of his hatred, and the fake kindness from before began to give way to true kindness. The old man grew older, and more of his duties fell to Hades, such as helping the less fortunate. It was these days, and the amazing yet downtrodden people he met that finally allowed Hades to turn the corner and regain the sweet countenance he had as a child.

    He wondered several times if he should try returning to his birth parents, to see them, and tell them he was ok, but the Wizard informed him that the only way to travel realms was a pair of silver slippers. They were a treasure of Oz, and, to make getting them even harder, they were never in anyone’s possession for a long period of time, switching locations of their own volition. They could be found, and used temporarily, but their power depended strongly on the user’s will. 

    The man patted Hades on the head and informed him in no uncertain terms that his will was not strong enough. Hades began to protest; the remark had sounded unusually mean, but the Wizard stopped him, saying he only wanted Hades to grow a little more in his magic before attempting such a trip because if his will wasn’t strong enough, the slippers may take off while he was in the other realm and he would never be able to get back to Oz. 

    The old man smiled at Hades. 

    “I wouldn’t want to lose you, child, and neither would your mother and father,” referring this time to his parents in Oz. 

    Hades, only seventeen at the time, nodded and accepted the Wizard’s word without complaint. 

    He worked for two more years then one day while he was working on learning a new spell in his study, a messenger came running into the room, tears streaming down his face.

    Hades led the boy to a chair and offered him a glass of water. The messenger drank then slammed the glass hard on the table, still crying. 

    Through his tears he recounted how the Wizard had gone on a routine diplomatic mission to meet with a warlord from another realm when everything had gone wrong. They had met in a neutral area of Oz, but, as the name implied, the warlord had nothing but war on his mind and had slain the Wizard where he stood. 

    The boy finished his story, shaking, then looked up into Hades’ shellshocked eyes. 

    “You are the Wizard of Oz now, Mr. Hades.” 

    Hades sunk into a chair, his face buried in his hands. His mentor of many years was dead, and now he was expected to run an entire realm and protect it from oncoming war? He took several deep breaths but against his efforts he began to cry and it was with shame that he fell into the arms of the messenger, who must have been about five years younger than him. 

    They cried for about an hour then separated, Hades’ cheeks flushed and his eyes red from rubbing. He turned to the messenger, tears he thought he didn’t have left shaking in the corners of his eyes. 

    “Look at me-” He choked on a laugh. “-blubbering away. I can’t be the Wizard.” 

    To his surprise the messenger smiled at him. He laid a hand on Hades’ shoulder. 

    “I think, Mr. Hades, that it is precisely because you cried that you _can_ be the Wizard. The best Wizard Oz has ever seen.” 

    Hades blinked. The boy just laughed at his shocked expression. 

    “You’ll be fine, Mr. Hades.” 

    The messenger got up and found the glasses in a cupboard, pouring them both more water. By the time he got done with the task Hades’ mind had gone through a whirlwind.

    The messenger’s wisdom and simple, childish belief made him waver on his doubts. It would be so easy to give in to hope, to just fling himself headlong into what he had been trained for. But fear was much more comfortable, it felt safe, and reasonable. Did he dare allow himself to do what his heart wanted and follow his beliefs? 

    He drank the glass the boy placed in front of him in a daze. Then when both glasses were drained, Hades stood and strode over to the closet. He opened it and pulled out a long green cape, so shiningly colored it caught the light from every angle. He dragged it over to a mirror. 

    Taking one last look at the happy reflection of the messenger behind him, Hades flung the cape around his shoulders and clasped the gold chain across his chest. The cape hung from his shoulder diagonally, revealing a large slit of the green vest and pants he was wearing. But it fit perfectly. 

    With a deep breath he turned back to the messenger. 

    “Who do you work for?” 

    The boy cleared his throat. 

    “For the advisors to the Witches Council.” 

    Hades snorted. 

    “Not anymore you don’t. Now you work for me.” He moved forward. “Go tell the generals to rally the armies and tell the other Emerald City messengers to send out a summons for the people to gather beneath the castle. I am going to give an address.” 

    The boy nodded, smiling wide enough to split his cheeks. Then he took off, racing down the hall in his leather sandals. Hades ran his hand through his hair. 

    He made the address from somewhere deep inside, an unconscious place he hadn’t known existed before. Never mind what he actually said, his message got across and the people cheered. He even saw his ex clapping weakly and got an approving nod from the generals. 

    The next year was spent going from camp to camp, looking over battle plans and learning magic from any old practitioners he met in remote hamlets along the way. He worked at lightning speed, rallying troops to defend the realm from the warlord. The mood was unlike anything Hades had seen from the people before, a mix of fear, anger, and disbelief that only heightened as both sides rallied on a field that was much closer to the Oz border than Hades would have preferred.

    The day of the battle finally came, and he stood at the front of the troops, fireballs gleaming in both hands and a sword at his waist. He glanced around at the line, aware that several thousand of these men and women would probably not be coming home alive. It was quite the weight to bear, for a twenty-year-old man, but he had to bear it. He was the Wizard. 

    The fight itself was a blur in his memory, just blood and magic blasts, and rushing to take out the other side’s wizards before they could hurt scores of his people. Hades only regained conscious thought at the end, standing over a couple of corpses with the green edges of his robes tinged red.

    By all accounts the battle was a thrilling success. Only a couple hundred died as the opposing army had mostly taken to the forest and ran once Hades had killed or captured all of their magic users. He didn’t take the loss of life or the taking of lives lightly, spending many days afterward attending countless funerals and crying alone in his rooms over the people who wouldn’t be going home on both sides because of him. 

    But the guilt faded over time, which made him even more guilty, the justifications war always gave repeated enough times in his ears that he began to believe them. But he didn’t forget. 

    Although certain events helped. The most positive outcome of the entire War of a Day was the people’s response. They had seen or heard the stories, of how their Wizard had marched on the front lines, had flung himself into battle before anyone else, and the moments of courage where he took out the enemy or saved the lives of his own soldiers. It left an impression, and Hades was welcomed as the Wizard with an enthusiasm he never had before. 

    The people loved him. Seeing their smiles and hearing the cheers on the day he walked on his own feet into the Emerald City finally convinced him that the safety of these people was worth his own pain. That didn’t stop him from sending for his family the minute he stepped into the castle and allowing them to comfort him. 

    There were no more wars in his rule, and as he went out periodically to mend infrastructure and cut down crime, the people’s love only grew. Which was why when an old friend in a far away district had called him out to take care of a mysterious portal, he hadn’t hesitated for a second. 

    The two men who had taken him out to see it had inspired no suspicion in him, up until the moment they shoved him through the portal and he fell into the middle of a Goddess’ living room. 

    As he had the thought the trees in front of him opened up and he was left gazing out over a large city with a castle in the center. The castle was black with red accents, as everything seemed to be in the Underworld, but other than the coloring it resembled the Emerald City perfectly. Hades had to blink a little and make sure it wasn’t fake. Yet the longer he looked, the more his eyes were drawn to the familiar buildings. 

    The four armories on the corners of the city, sixteen libraries arranged throughout the residences with the same hurried placement, and even the door on this side of the castle that barely anyone could see and only he used to get into his rooms. 

    The people were almost impossible to see from his elevated position, but they were there, their movements the only reasons they were visible as more than full black specks. A hot wind blew Hades’ blonde hair back. 

    He leaned forward from the tree he was grasping to get a better view of how he could access the city, but in his careless wonder he hadn’t noticed the hill he was standing on slope abruptly down.

    His footing gave out with a rush and he tumbled several meters down the side before getting his feet under him and scrabbling with his hands to find any purchase. 

    The annoyance he felt seemed magnified, his on top of the Goddess’ who must surely not be appreciating all the little scrapes he had now peppered his legs and back with.

    Persephone’s annoyance faded with time and he felt those little scrapes heal, magic closing the wounds. Mentally he thanked her before standing on the hill, leaning back so he wouldn’t fall. 

    The walls around the city were high, much higher than the small barrier that surrounded the Emerald City, meant to focus traffic through the gates. These walls were almost fifty meters at a glance, the onyx sides without any abrasions or markings. 

    Hades was beginning to wonder how he ever would get in when the ground he was standing on shook and he saw a section of the wall, indistinguishable from the rest of it, detach and swing outward. The crack reached all the way up the wall, creating the largest gate Hades had ever seen. It didn’t open much and the amount of people on the outside who were entering was very small. 

    Hades realized joining this group may be the only way he could get in so he scrambled down the hill as fast as he could, skidding on the brush the last few meters. His feet landed on a path, next to the caravan of people. A few of them looked over at him, likely noticing his bright green robes in their sea of oily black, but their eyes were disinterested and they soon turned away. 

    Everything about Hades was disconcerting, starting with the very ground he was standing on. He felt the solidity of the surface beneath his feet but to his eyes it appeared he was walking on a cloud of ever-shifting cream-brown mist, dust from the path lifting up as he walked and swirling with suspicious slowness through the air around his ankles, as though reluctant to allow gravity to drag it back to the ground. 

    The people continued to unnerve him as well. He could pick out men and women from the crowd, but their cloaks were quite baggy, making the task difficult. The cloaks also wrapped entirely around the bodies and heads of the people, like a poncho without a single break where he could ascertain what clothing they wore underneath. They had accepted him in silence and so he marched with them in it, approaching the doors. 

    The wall loomed large in his vision, and with the aid of his height, Hades picked out a few men and women standing at the side of the door, waving the people in. These had clothing that differed from the others clearly. For a start it was standard in its drabness but varied in style, helping them look more like normal people. The red light that pervaded the space glinted and gleamed from their direction. 

    Hades squinted and picked out golden bands wrapped around the necks of all the guards. The bands glowed with magic and when his group finally passed them he felt the power of the bands putting pressure on his own magical signature. His breath shortened with the power. 

    He was raising a hand to his neck when the feeling lessened, an alternate source giving him the strength to pass the guards. He breathed again when he was inside the wall, once again grateful to Persephone for her help. It was interesting how easily she was able to affect him magically. Not only was it a mark of her magical prowess, nothing less than what he’d expect from a Goddess, but it also spoke to the ease of the connection. How much else could be shared through their link? 

    Hades chanced a moment to slip aside and close his eyes. He focused all of his power inward and thought, _Persephone_? 

    He wasn’t sure it reached her but then he felt a rush of discomfort. A voice came back in his head. 

    _Quit working so hard. You almost burst my eardrums!_

    He winced and decreased his concentration. Hello Goddess. 

    _I told you to call me Persephone. You used it before._

    _That I did. Sorry, Persephone._

    _Don’t waste time apologizing to me, get inside, the wall is going to close._

    His eyes shot open. Most of the group had moved on and the banded guards were passing him as they hurried to not get hit by the slab of the wall that was swinging shut behind him. He chose to join them, moving out of range and allowing the gate to smooth itself back into the rest of the battlements. 

    He stared until he couldn’t see where the wall began and the gate ended. Then he spun on a heel, facing the city of the Dead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: 
> 
> This took a bit. Sorry friends. I hope you enjoy this one. I'm trying to update all my stories so I will probably either post a new multichap (because I love to torture myself) or a new chapter of Law of the Land. Thanks for sticking with me, please R&R.


	3. Chapter Three

    The city was as desolate but at the same time as full of life as the gate. The red haze and kicked up cream dust hung over everything, from the people, to the buildings, and the occasional animal. Yet in that oppressive atmosphere, a bustling market trade existed. Hades couldn’t see what the citizens were trading but they were doing so very enthusiastically, almost violently. 

    A woman from behind him in the line bumped him harshly as she passed. The force was such that he fell over despite his considerable height. She didn’t stop but a young man did, hauling Hades up wordlessly and leaving into the crowd soon after. 

    Hades looked back at the gate to see it fully closed and the guards walking away. The populace cleared in front of them, shying away from the golden collars. His previous experience with the guards had been…uncomfortable to say the least but it was becoming clear that none of the regular citizens of the Underworld were interested in helping him. Hades screwed up his courage and approached one of them, a tall man with blonde hair and a ruby red scarf. 

    “Excuse me,” he started. The man spun on him, bright purple eyes blinking. 

    “Yes?” 

    “I-I was wondering if anyone could, well, explain what’s going on to me?” 

    The man’s eyes softened. Literally, the deep purple shade of before faded to a soft violet. 

    “You’re new aren’t you?” 

    “Yes I-” Persephone’s voice slammed into his head. _Don’t tell him you’re alive!_ Hades winced. 

    “I am. New here, that is.” 

    The man nodded. “Come to the bar with me; it’s been a long day.” 

    Hades followed the man down a series of side streets, the red haze shaded orange by the shadows of the overlooking buildings, despite the lack of a visible sun. 

    They entered a structure with a slightly larger façade than the others and dark brown shutters. The room inside took up the entire size of the building itself. The right side was entirely taken up by a glossed oak bar, with a mirror against the wall behind it. Liquors of all types were lined up on the shelf behind the bar, multiplying to infinite number in the mirror. 

    A few patrons were seated on the stools and the tables that were spread out on the left side, but those on the stools moved away from the center as the guard and Hades approached. The bartender flinched as the guard approached as well but didn’t move away, leaning her arms on the bar. 

    The guard took a stool and waved Hades to the one next to him. The bartender arched an eyebrow at the guard silently. 

    “Blue Lagoon,” the guard said, slamming his hand on the bar. 

    The bartender rolled her eyes. She turned soundlessly to Hades. 

    “Savoy Affair, if you have it please.” 

    For his grace he got a raised eyebrow and the edge of a smile. Then the bartender turned around to make the drinks and the guard grabbed Hades’ attention again. 

    “So,” he began. “I’m not going to sugar coat this too much. You’re dead.” 

    Hades tried to act shocked, he really did, but Persephone’s laughter still echoed in his head. 

    “Oh no, um, what does that mean?” 

    The guard stared. Hades tried to get his eyes to water. 

    “I had so much to live for.” 

   Persephone’s laughter rose to a dull roar, so loud he barely heard the guard’s uninspired response. 

    “Well, you are. And you may want to get used to it because the only way you’re getting out is if you fulfill your unfinished business and move on, either to the good place or the bad place.” 

    “Where?”

    “Well I call it the good place but I suppose technically it’d be known as Elysium and the bad place would be Tartarus. We’re currently in the fields of Asphodel, awaiting the fulfillment of whatever unfinished business in life led us here.” 

    Hades looked around the bar. “Does everyone here have unfinished business?” 

    “Oh yeah. Good or evil, black, white, grey, everyone is here for that reason.” 

    Hades chanced a bit of specificity. “What if your unfinished business is to find True Love.” 

    The guard chortled. “It wouldn’t be so unbelievable, but hard to find here. Most everyone is too caught up in their own depression to worry about happiness in the afterlife. And then of course there are the ones who know they’re going to the bad place no matter what and intend to never complete their unfinished business.” 

    “What happens to those people?” 

    The guard grinned toothily. “We happen to them, the Persephone’s Royal Guard. We drag those bastards before the queen and she sends them to their doom prematurely.” 

    Hades stored the information for a future time. He just nodded. The guard downed his drink in one go. He cleared his throat then made to get up. 

    “There, I’ve done my civic duty to inform you of your fate. Here’s to hoping you can carve out any happiness.” 

    With that he left, not even paying for his drink. The bartender came over and took the glass, cleaning it. Anger burned in the backs of her eyes but she said nothing. Hades called out to her. 

    “I don’t think I caught your name.” She smiled when she turned back to him, long blonde hair hitting her belt. 

    “I didn’t give it. But because you asked so nicely, Shirley. Shirley Marin. And you, stranger?” 

    “Hades. I don’t really have a last name.” 

    Shirley grinned. She leaned on the bar. “What do you think your unfinished business is?” 

    Hades faltered for a moment. “I think it’s True Love. I never got to it in life, too busy with my work.” 

    Shirley shrugged. “Person’s got to work. No harm in that. You’re young.” She chuckled. “What am I saying? We’re dead.” 

    But Hades just smiled. “Who knows. Death doesn’t have to ruin my prospects if I don’t want it to.” 

    The corner of Shirley’s mouth quirked up. She tapped the edge of his glass. “I like you. This is on the house.” 

    Hades sighed. “Good, because I had nothing to pay you with.” 

    Shirley howled with laughter. “What? Did you die today?” At Hades’ silence she stopped laughing. “Sorry man, that’s a shame.” She propped a hand on an elbow. “But hey, how’d you figure out your unfinished business in one day? I still don’t know what mine is.” 

    “I was searching for it right before I died.” 

    In any other circumstances he’d feel bad for lying but the rules of his world had all been shaken today and he intended to direct all of his questions to Persephone the minute he could get some time alone. Shirley nodded in response to his last phrase. 

    “Makes sense. If you’re that new you probably don’t have anywhere to stay do you?” 

    Hades nodded. 

    “A couple houses down there’s a two story brick building with a couple of rooms. Tell the woman at the desk you’re new and that I sent you and you should be good until you get a job.” 

    Hades toasted his gratitude to her. She filled a glass herself and led a second toast to new friends, and the inevitability of death. 

    Hades found the house as she told him and got a room on the first story. There was a large fireplace in the corner, boarded up. The landlady told him not to tug on any of the boards because there was a larger hole in the ground. He thanked her over and over for her hospitality before settling down onto the bed. 

    Hades removed his shoes and the larger green cloak, resting in his green vest and pants. The chain of a gold pocket watch lolled out of his slacks pocket. He stared at it for a moment, letting his vision blur until there were twice as many links in the chain. 

    He laid still for a few minutes when Persephone spoke into his mind, sounding almost reluctant. 

    _Didn’t you have questions for me?_

    _Yes.  
_

_Then come on.  
_

_Where?  
_

_The fireplace. Pull the boards off. We got lucky, that hole goes down a lot deeper than the landlady thinks. A lot deeper._

    Hades got up and did his best to remove the boards without making too much noise. He peered into the hole and couldn’t see the bottom. 

    _Jump in._

    Hades took a step back. 

    _The hell? No way, I’ll die._

    Persephone scoffed. 

    _Trust me. If you die, I die too._

    It was a morbid reassurance at best but Hades took it, sliding into the hole. After a couple feet the slick surface smoothed out into a slide that he went down for at least a full minute, in pitch darkness. Then a light appeared at the end and he was spat out onto the floor of a cavern. 

    He brushed himself off. A light cough sounded. Persephone was leaning against the side of the cavern, a candelabra in her hand. She still looked devastatingly beautiful in the most literal form of the phrase: a beauty that brought devastation. 

    She beckoned him down the hall. He followed her into a smaller cave, brightly furnished and lowly lit. She sank onto a red chaise lounge, settling the candelabra on an end table. He chose an armchair across the way from her and they fell into silence. 

    Persephone conjured a glass of wine into her hand and took a sip, cocking her head at him over the rim. He sighed and sunk into the chair. 

    “Where should I start?” 

    Persephone just raised an eyebrow, saying clearly, _that’s your decision not mine._ So he asked the first thing on the top of his mind. 

    “If you don’t mind me saying, ‘Persephone, Goddess of Death’ seems more of a title than a name. What is your real name?” 

    Her crimson lips curled over the edge of her chalice. 

    “I’m surprised to caught onto that so quickly and were brave enough to ask.” 

    Hades laughed tiredly. 

    “As if I have any semblance of control left in my life right now. If an immortal goddess is the only person in this whole world who can explain things to me, I don’t really care how I’m going to get answers, I’m just going to ask.” 

    Persephone giggled lightly then set the chalice to the side. 

    “Indeed, Persephone is a title. Every ruler of the Underworld goes by the name of Persephone.” 

    Hades stiffened. “So that person can change?” 

    Persephone nodded. “The rulers are chosen by the council of Olympus, from one of millions of poor souls who die every year. That person is elevated to honorary status as a god or goddess, wiped of their human memories, and given the name Persephone. They rule until the council changes their minds and someone new comes in.” 

    Hades leaned forward. “Does that mean you don’t know your real name?” 

    A defensiveness came upon Persephone’s posture. “Not really. I know it began with the letter Z and that my favorite color as a child was green, but every moment of my life before ruling the Underworld is a blank.” 

    Hades was struck with a burst of anger towards the Olympian council. From what he knew of legend the entire cast of gods and goddesses were plagued with laziness and liked to use mortals however they wanted. Yet as he regarded the woman before him, composed, intelligent, and even helpful although she refused to acknowledge it, it became clear that whoever she was hadn’t deserved what had befallen her. The council had stolen whatever unfinished business she had, dooming her to carry out their administration until they got bored of her. 

    It was this idea, of how much they had taken from her, that led him to his next words, spoken all too familiarly. 

    “How about Zelena?” 

    Persephone looked up. “What?” 

    “It’s from a far away land I traveled to. In their native language Zelena means green. It fits both of your criteria.” 

    He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back but she didn’t scowl and he counted that as a win. After a moment her facial expression relaxed into something a little less otherworldly. 

    “I like it.” There was a flicker of fear in her eyes, as if she was afraid to have voiced any sort of opinion. 

    Hades’ smile grew larger. “I do too. Can I call you that from now on?” 

    Persephone, now Zelena, shrugged. “Do as you want.” 

    She took another sip of wine. Hades led with another question. “Who are the men at the gates?” 

    “My Royal Guard. They open and close the gates so the beasts of Tartarus don’t get in at night and police the troublemakers, as that one man told you.” 

    “Hey! Can you always read my mind?” 

    “I can. But I won’t. You will be alone in your mind most of the time.” 

    Hades exhaled internally. _That was a relief_. “The one I met wasn’t very nice.” 

    “Most of them aren’t. I purposely pick them from the people who are growing frustrated with finding their unfinished business.” 

    Hades smiled. “So you give them a purpose in their lives.” 

    Zelena looked away. “I didn’t say that and you shouldn’t take it that way.” 

    Hades had many more questions but Zelena forestalled him. “That Shirley girl seemed quite nice.” 

    Hades heard the inflection in her voice and blushed. “No, no. I’m sorry Zelena, but we are not going to gossip about my love life, not while I’m literally sitting underground in the afterlife.” 

    This set Zelena to laughing again, as she had earlier that day, but brighter and happier. The mood was equally light after that point. Hades learned that most everyone in the city had a job, ranging from collecting materials from the outer fields to selling handmade creations in the marketplaces. Currency was small bronze coins each worth about one shot glass of alcohol. 

    There were areas of the city that were more dangerous than others, as those who knew they were going to Tartarus lived there. Hades wasn’t to tell the other souls he was alive because they could accidentally report to the Olympian council and get Zelena into trouble. And that was about all he needed to know. 

    Zelena got in a couple more shots about dating Shirley before magically sending him back up the slide, with a hushed goodnight. He had scoffed at the first few jabs but the longer the night went, the more he thought about it. He thought about how Zelena looked, her knees pulled up to her chest in that fancy dress, laughing like a girl in response to her new name, tears in the corners of her perfectly lined eyes. He was on a quest for True Love, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was also largely expositional but I hope it was a bit less heavy handed than last chapter. More action too. Thank you for reading, and, as always, please leave a comment or kudo if you like this story. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ragingstillness


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